


Space Station Swing

by I_am_Best



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Gen, Just a wee bit of flirting, Star Trek Tropes, Wild Wooly & Nega are smushed into one Wander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8205671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_Best/pseuds/I_am_Best
Summary: While trapped on a space station during an ion storm, Wander manages to stumble right into a hologame malfunction of an unprecedented kind, even for him.





	

 

Wander pressed his face to the curved acrylic of one of the space station's windows as Sylvia approached, drink and two straws in hand. He knew she was there, her reflection big and blue and easily twice as tall and broad as himself, but the view was too gosh-darn pretty to pull away from.

Outside an ion storm crackled across the upper atmosphere of the planet they orbited, creating a delicate, sparkling particle haze that blew off the planet in sheets. Some of the collisions shimmered to life around the station itself, causing the lights to dim and rainbows to dance in the ensuing, momentary shadows before they hummed back to life.

"It's so pretty," Wander said breathlessly, as though he hadn't seen a hundred other such wonders over his lifetime. But like leaves of grass, everything was always new to him.

"And it'll tear you apart if you go out into it," Sylvia said as she tugged him away from the window and over to a seat. She stuck their straws in the drink then offered it to Wander first, but he was still captivated by the window. "We're grounded 'til that blows over," she said.

As though to support Sylvia's statement, the PA system came to life and a woman's voice announced a delay of seven hours for arrivals and departures in a sundry of languages. Her Alysian was a little stiff, Wander thought, but not too shabby for having to apparently know sixteen other languages as well.

He finally broke himself from the view to sit across from Sylvia and share the drink. "That's okay. I'm sure there are lotsa fun things to do up here."

Sylvia's gaze slid slowly, pointedly around the room before coming to rest again on Wander. They sat in a gray, gray canteen with the only point of interest being its large window, and to get to said canteen they'd had to walk through gray, gray corridors designed to get people from point A to point B and nothing else. There were some vending machines outside the canteen, but this was not a place made to entertain. Even the people seemed as drained of energy and as unfamiliar with the concept of fun as the station, except for a certain tiny, furry orange alien everywhere. But the fact that _Wander_ had energy was unsurprising. His sunny disposition alone could power a fission reactor.

Wander reached up into his hat and produced a few coins that he'd found on a planet a few ambles back and not been able to find owners for.

"I think I saw an arcade..." he said, not sure himself anymore. He'd only glimpsed it in all the hustle and bustle, after all, and it would be kind of outta place here. But no. Even if there wasn't no arcade, there were plenty of other things to see. There always were. "I'm gonna go check it out," he decided. "Wanna come?"

"I'll pass. I don't do well with those sort of things. If the power flickered when I was about to get a high score..." she trailed off, and Wander nodded knowingly. Sylvia's anger issues were leagues better since the Galactic Conjunction 6000, but she was still working hard on keeping them under control. An arcade machine would have no chance against her more aggressive tendencies.

"I'll see ya later, then," he said as he hopped out of the chair and headed to the canteen door. It slid shut behind him, cutting off Sylvia’s lazy “have fun” and leaving him in an unexpected quiet.

The hallway beyond, which had been full of people before, now stood silent and empty. He supposed that, since everyone was stuck, there wasn't much need to go rushing hither and thither. Which would make it a little trickier to find the arcade, if he couldn't find nobody to ask.

Wander shrugged and picked a direction. Getting lost would just be another adventure!

* * *

It took him two hours of waning enthusiasm to find the arcade, but find it he did, tucked away on the right of a dead-end hallway. Of the few people he'd found to ask, most didn't even know there was one. It must have been completely unused for ages, if not ever.

There was no dust on the machines, as dust was one of those things a space station was sure to have none of, but the room had an abandoned sort of feel to it. The air was stale, and the colorful lights outlining the games blinked and flickered to life as though they were new when he stepped through the door. The buttons Wander pressed were stiff, and there wasn't a single smudge or smear of a child's fingerprint anywhere to be found.

Well, he supposed it was up to him to give this nice little arcade some love and affection. Wander told it as much, but only got nearly inaudible, tinny _vroom-vrooms_ of engines revving and _zipzipzips_ of laser fire on a loop in response. An exchange machine offered four whole tokens for one credit in BIG, EXPLOSIVE signage, so Wander fed in all of his money and came up with... 23 tokens. That was close enough.

He turned to pick his first target.

Shoot 'em ups, no thank you. Claw drop offering purring Tribble toys (he hoped they were toys, at least), maybe. A racing game which cost four tokens right off. A -- Wander's attention was arrested by a black monolith tucked away behind the Stella Starbella pinball machine.

He placed his hands reverently on the slick, curved surface, and squinted up at the name of the machine printed in matte black at the top. HOLO. Two tokens.

Wander shoved them into the token slot, and the front slid open, revealing a dark maw with a helmet and gloves hanging in the center like the dangly thing in the back of the throat. He set his hat beside his feet and slipped the helmet on. A screen flickered to life as he felt more than saw the door slide shut behind him.

_Scanning in progress..._

Wander felt the tingle of light across his guard hairs.

_Avatar rendering..._

Slowly a familiar little figure began to materialize before his eyes. Text explained that he could get print-outs of his game (for more tokens, of course) afterward, so he should customize his in-game avatar with that in mind, then asked for his name for the system. After several wonders, wenders, and winders, he got it to accept Wander.

_Pick Game_

_> Space Rangers_  
_> Extreme Orbbles_  
_> Space Train Heist_  
_> Arachnomorph Amalgamation (Adults Only)_

Wander raised his hand and the options highlighted about where his finger came to rest on them. A voice over read the text much, much too slowly for his tastes, so kept getting cut off part-way through a word as he moved to the next game. _Space Rangers_ \-- traveling the galaxy, playing intergalactic diplomat but more often getting into space battles and meeting green-skinned space babes. All parts of that reminded Wander of Dominator, so bleugh to that. _Extreme Orbbles_ \-- another racing game. _Space Train Heist_ \-- takes you back to the wild frontier times of space travel, where you're the nastiest of outlaws robbing a train and evading the law, with a story mode option. _Arachnomorph Amalgamation_ \-- warnings for graphic violence and Wander didn't get much further than that before letting his finger slide away from the name.

Feeling nostalgic, Wander picked _Space Train Heist_. He remembered when those old timey freight trains were new, before the streamlined bullet trains that rode light rails became the norm. Despite his current outlaw status in real life, Wander'd never robbed one of those trains before, of course, but he had hitched many a ride on them back in the day. Sometimes even now Sylvia and him would come across those old tracks that lingered, rotting away under the onslaught of the void, curling like vines through mined and abandoned systems.

His avatar popped up again in-game, where he was allowed to customize him while the rules were explained. Wander put on a hat as close to his own as he could find, then began flipping through other options. A red bandana, cowboy boots, and a villainous goatee later, Wild Wooly Wander stood ready to rob. With a giggle, Wander approved the design, selected story mode, and jumped right in.

* * *

Stars and train sounds slowly materialized around Wander as the game loaded, until he found himself on a small speedster alongside the roaring, clanking train. With a whoop, Wander veered toward the train and leaped for the nearest car's ladder. In the game deck, he felt his hat brush his leg, and carefully scooted it aside so it didn't get trampled as he scaled the ladder and ran across the top of the train.

The textures were surprisingly detailed, and he could practically feel the rusty, worn metal under his feet as he jumped car to car. A railroad officer wearing Wander's template, though the colors and outfit had been altered, climbed up, and Wander dodged the sizzle of laser fire.

The game prompted him to grab his own gun. Wander glanced down at his hip, where a red blaster sat in a holster next to a coil of rope. He supposed those were mandatory in-game gear because he certainly hadn't put on that belt. Wander waved away the suggestion and dove for the side of the car, just barely grabbing onto the overhang before he could be flung out into the void.

He dangled in the window of a passenger car. Inside, Wander could see all sorts of himselves with color swaps in various antique clothing. One orange girl wearing gingham seemed more distinct than the others, as though a spotlight rested on her. An NPC, Wander guessed. He waved at her, and she screamed -- oh, yeah, _villain_. He supposed he should play the part.

Before he could really invest in the role, a flicker of darkness passed over the game, and Wander suddenly found himself without a handhold. In that brief glitch, the train had managed to jump yards ahead, leaving him to drift just out of reach. In a few seconds, there was only space and an empty track. Something lurched outside of the game, sending Wander into the wall of the game deck. His helmet hit with a sharp crack. Wander saw stars, but not in the game anymore.

* * *

He woke up disoriented in a tarry soup of pure darkness. Goodness, but his head hurt. More importantly, everything was dead quiet.

Wander clambered to his feet and knocked himself on the helmet, which dangled back in its original position. He cringed and rubbed his forehead, then felt more carefully in the dark. Hat. Hat. Ah, there!

With his hat on his head, he already felt better. Still achy, but not panicked. And still stuck.

"Sylvia!" he called out as he pawed at where he thought the door was, despite knowing she was likely across the station where he'd left her. "Anybody?"

When no replies were forthcoming, Wander felt more carefully around the featureless wall until he found a seam. He popped his claws out and wedged them into it, then began to pry and pull, trying to get it open. This was a terrible safety feature, if one could call trapping him in the game deck that.

A millimeter turned into a centimeter turned into a few inches, and that was all Wander needed to wriggle his way to freedom. The arcade was dark but for a gray, featureless sort of light filtering from somewhere beyond the doorway. It was quiet out here, too, with only a broken crackle coming from the PA system and, somewhere far, far away, the engines humming.

Wander flexed his aching fingers, as his claws disappeared back into their sheaths. He could imagine well enough what had happened: the ion storm likely knocked out the primary power. A strong enough gust off the sun and even a station's shielding couldn't stop all the particles wanting to get through. Nothing to be afraid of. That was just how storms went in space. Bigger and badder, but not particularly dangerous if you were in a vessel.

So why did he feel an itching between his shoulders like something really bad had happened? Wander bit his lip and shuffled toward the door. He ought to find Sylvia, just in case.

Wander was just on the threshold when a voice spoke up behind him, its drawl familiar but not quite right -- a little too low, a little too thick.

"Howdy, pardner."

He spun around and squinted into the room. A figure stepped out from the shadows cast by the racing game, each movement accompanied by the metallic rattle of spurs. Green hat close to but not quite like his own. Bandana. Goatee. Orange fur.

"Wild Wooly Wander?" Wander asked tentatively.

"That's what folks call me," he said as he slid closer. "But I'm a friendly sort, so you can call me Wander."

Wander giggled, and Wooly's movements halted. "Folks call _me_ Wander," Wander said. "I'm a real friendly sort, too. And always glad t' meet another Wander (well, it's never actually happened before, so this is setting all kinds of standards), though I'm not sure I know quite what you're doin' here. Last I saw you were, um. Elsewhere. Definitely not here. More... there." He gestured at the shadowy bulk of the HOLO game deck.

Wild Wooly Wander quirked his eyebrow as Wander rambled on and on and on. When Wander finally paused, he said, "I don't rightly know myself how I got here, though I don't find myself inclined to care, neither. This place looks pretty well-t’-do compared to my last heist. I bet they have plenty they'll be willin' to part with."

Wander's grin fell away. So it wasn't just the looks that made it out of the game deck, or wherever Wooly -- he decided to think of him as that, since Wild Wooly Wander was quite the mouthful, even in his head -- came from. "You can't just go robbin' folks."

Wooly stared at Wander like he'd just told him he wasn't allowed to breathe anymore. "Uh, sure I can." He unholstered his blaster and waved it in front of Wander's eyes. "Real easy."

Wander pushed the blaster out of his face. "No, like, it's not right." he explained. "It's not a good thing to do."

"Good thing I ain't good, then." Wooly took a step around Wander but found him blocking his path again. He rolled his eyes. "If you're gonna be a prissy missy about it --"

He cracked Wander across the head with the butt of the blaster, and, more out of shock than anything else, Wander stumbled back with a yelp. He could take a hit well as anyone, but that didn't mean he was used to being hit. Definitely didn't like it, either. He pressed a hand to the blooming ache.

Wooly grabbed his other arm and dragged him back into the arcade, ignoring Wander's protests as he slung him against the pinball machine and shoved him down.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Wander asked, though it was fairly clear what Wooly was doing as he unhooked his rope and began to tie Wander's arms behind its leg, then wrapped the rope around his waist. Wander wriggled and complained and generally made things difficult until Wooly shoved him harder against the machine, earning a brief moment of silence and stillness as Wander's head hit the metal siding.

Wooly checked his handiwork then stepped out of view.

"Wooly?" Wander asked, craning his neck to see around the machine. "Buddy, I really think we oughta have a sit-down and talk about this. This is a real weird situation. And I don’t think ya realize quite how weird it is."

"You just don't shut up, do ya?" Wooly asked as he came back around and shoved his bandana into Wander's mouth. He tied it around his head, though Wander's was still talking as though he didn't realize he was gagged, only, this time, it was just muffled gibberish. Wooly whistled. "You really don't. Anywho," he pushed himself to his feet, then patted the side of Wander's head, right where the majority of the pain was, and chuckled quietly when Wander whined. "You seem a nice sort, 'n' this seems a pretty desolate little corner of wherever we are. So I won’t kill ya, ‘cause I’m a nice sort too. Have fun waitin' fer someone t' find ya."

With a louder laugh that was like stabbing an ice pick in Wander's ear, Wooly disappeared out the door.

* * *

Wander immediately began to writhe against the ropes, and, thank Grop for his natural wriggliness, the binds slowly loosened. A hand got free, and he yanked the bandanna out of his mouth, then untied the rest of himself.

There was an ever increasing and worrying amount of singe marks all across the walls as Wander ran in what he had to assume was the direction Wooly had gone.

He rounded a corner full speed and crashed into a large, familiar body. "Sylvia!" Wander squeaked, flinging his arms around her in relief. The people behind her screamed and scattered, and before Wander could quite process what that was about, Sylvia had peeled him off of herself and was holding him in the air, his legs still kicking because he had places to be.

"Wander! What the flarpin' heck do you think you're doing? You lose your gropdarn mind?"

"It ain't me!" he cried out. "It's my villainous doppelganger from a hologame!"

Sylvia stared at him for a long moment, then brought him in for a proper hug. "I have no clue what any of that you just said was, buddy, but I'm glad you're safe.”

Wander let the hug last a few seconds longer, then squirmed free and straightened his hat. "I gotta go find him, Syl."

"Darn right we do. Find him, and stop him." Wander's hopeful expression soured quickly. "He's a menace, Wander. Between the storm and that.... that guy, the entire station's in chaos."

"His name's Wild Wooly Wander, and accordin' to the description, he's a legendary, intergalactic outlaw. Not a good one, mind, a bad one. A real rough-n-tumble sort. I didn't get far 'nough in the game to learn much else."

Sylvia quirked her eyebrow at the familiar choice of name, but didn't comment on it. "That's a start -- oh!" Sylvia shoved Wander behind a box as more frantic people stampeded past, then threw him on her saddle. "We've gotta find the security guys and fill them in on this."

They galloped past fleeing civilians until Sylvia was brought up sharp by a blaster directed just past her, at Wander. Wander's hands flew into the air.

"Gotcha, you little orange rat!” A woman crowed. She was larger, even, than Sylvia, with gray, tough-looking skin and a squarish sort of build. Her deep-set eyes remained focused on Wander, as she addressed Sylvia. “Miss Zbornak, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, and this isn't the guy you're looking for. He can help, though." Sylvia waited until the blaster was lowered to set Wander on the floor. Her tail remained securely around his waist even when he was on his feet, and he could feel the tension in her muscles, just waiting for someone to get an itchy trigger finger.

"I will gladly tell ya anything I know that y'think might help," Wander offered. His helpfulness seemed to throw the woman for a loop, but soon enough he'd explained everything, with Sylvia corroborating what she could, and Sylvia felt comfortable enough to let him go.

The woman, who introduced herself as Marjo, head of security, brought them to the security office while she sent a man to hunt down any game manuals. The room was in chaos, leaving Wander a moment to slip away and check out the monitors that covered one wall. His brow furrowed at the clear path of destruction trailing across multiple screens and the injured folks he could see in the infirmary.

“It’s not your fault, buddy,” Sylvia told him. Her hand rested comfortingly on his shoulder as she steered him back to the problem at hand.

“Ain’t it, though? I mean, I made him. I think.”

“You’re going to help us _un_ make him,” Marjo said. “My men can’t find any manuals for the game. What do we do now?”

Wander balked a moment at the idea of unmaking anyone, but all eyes were suddenly on him. This was the sort of environment he thrived in, and though it was up there, this wasn’t the weirdest situation he’d found himself in. He had to do something.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” he began even though he didn’t have a breath of an idea. “The game -- the game didn’t seem real original, so it’s probably usin’ a lotta tropes. Now, I didn’t get too far, but Wooly’s a real bad guy. A mustache-twirlin’ villain, and what do villains do?”

The room was silent long enough that Wander worried he’d have to figure out the answer on his own, but, fortunately, Sylvia chimed in. “They capture damsels!”

“Yes! Oh, oh, oh!” Wander bounced on his heels and flapped his arms in excitement as an idea struck. “I saw a girl version of me in th’ game just before it glitched out. She looked a bit more solid than the rest. She might’ve been the damsel I -- he -- Wooly was gonna capture.”

"Sounds like Brad."

"Sylvia!" Wander squeaked indignantly. "That is very disrespectful to Wooly!" While Sylvia rolled her eyes and muttered a half-hearted apology, Wander continued. "So anyway, here's my plan..."

A few minutes and one very accommodating hat later, Sylvia was tying a gingham bow in Wander’s head fur to match the pleated dress he wore. After assuring Sylvia he'd be fine -- after all, Wooly hadn't killed him before when he could've -- Wander slipped out into the firefight and flung himself at Wooly with a dramatic cry.

Wooly's shot went wide as suddenly he found his arms full of Wander in full-on damsel mode. "Oh please, sir, stop shootin'!" Wander wailed as they both toppled over. He flung his own arms out, knocking his blaster out of his hand. In the sudden lack of laser fire, the hallway cleared and doors closed with people safely behind them.

"What the -- git off me!" Wooly shoved Wander away and scrabbled for his blaster as the last of the doors slid shut with a pneumatic hiss. Wander sat up, hands folded in the puff of his skirt, and watched silently as Wooly scanned the room for any enemies before his gaze came to settle on Wander again. He squinted suspiciously at him, looking Wander up and down, before his expression relaxed. Wooly offered his hand to Wander. "Sorry, darlin'," he said as he pulled Wander up. "Thought you were -- well, I don't rightly know, but ya caught me off-guard."

Wander glanced quizzically at their still clasped hands, which had the added luck of making him look demure. "I'm real sorry 'bout doin' that, sir, but I couldn't think of any other way to get you to stop. You were takin' them folks out like ducks in a shootin' gallery."

Wooly blew a dismissive raspberry and said, "Yer a fair sight nicer a prize than any I'da gotten from 'em. Nobody's had nuthin' but these little plastic coins."

Wander giggled at the compliment, his free hand rising to cup his cheek. "Please, sir. I ain't used t' such sweet words."

"Well that just ain't right, Miss...."

Wander opened his mouth, momentarily blanking on the name he'd come up with earlier. Gracious, but it'd been awhile since he'd met a bad boy with such a honeyed tongue. Even if it was himself. Sort of. He wasn't sure what to make of that, but as with those sorts of things, Wander just didn't think too hard on it. "D-Daisy. And you're Wild Wooly Wander, right? Th' biggest, baddest outlaw this side a' the Gamma quadrant."

"Darn right I am. An' yer my hostage now, Miss Daisy." Wooly tugged Wander close and looped an arm around his waist. The rounded tip of his blaster dug into Wander's side.

Wander's flustered smile fell away. "Aww, man."

"What?" Wooly said as he led Wander forward through the hall. "You thought ya could bat yer eyelashes 'n' get me t' do whatever ya wanted? Not likely, darlin'. I ain't that sweet on ya. Certainly not enough t' risk my neck. Literally."

Wander was silent as he contemplated that. Wooly's was a world where he only _had_ two options -- fight like the game had prompted or wind up swinging from a tree. That was how he was programmed, right?

"No, no, of course not," Wander said finally, shaking his head fervently. While yes, he _had_ hoped for that, at first, Sylvia and Marjo were just around one of those bends they were coming to. Wander realized that while their plan was going well enough so far, he didn't want Wooly to get caught. He couldn't help how he was, and this didn't seem a place that cared much for reasons, just results. And the results were laid up in the infirmary. So his plan would have to be different. "But I don't think we oughta go this way, sir. My --" he lowered his voice, and Wooly stopped moving to lean in to hear him. "My friends, they set a trap for ya up there."

"Why are ya tellin' me this?" Wooly replied just as quietly.

"They wanna punish ya for all this," Wander gestured at the overturned boxes, the scorched walls and occasional blood smear. "But this ain't where you belong, sir. Y' don't know how things work here."

Wooly pulled the blaster away from Wander to tap his lips thoughtfully with the tip. "Y'know, I met a fella who said somethin' akin t' that, too. There some information y'all are privy to that I ain't?"

"I’m afraid so, sir. I bet if we just calm down and talk this out, things'll make a whole lot more sense for ya."

"I don't like bein' outta the loop," Wooly mused. "And you don't seem bright 'nough t' be trickin' me."

"I ain't at all, sir,” Wander readily agreed.

Wooly laughed as he tugged Wander back the way they'd gone. "I like ya, Miss Daisy. Yer th' best kinda girl."

"I am?"

"Yeah, pretty 'n' dumb. That fella I'm takin' ya to's th' same. Likely as anythin' y'all ain't got a braincell t' rub betwixt ya."

Wander stopped walking, causing Wooly to stumble to a halt as well. "Wait, we're going to meet him?"

"Sure as sunshine we are, darlin'. Seems you two've got quite a story fer me." With that he got Wander moving again by judicious use of jabbing with his blaster.

* * *

The lights were back on in the arcade, and games cooed again for attention as they entered. HOLO was playing some sort of low audio from inside its open door, and a monitor that blended right into the shiny siding showed S _pace Train Heist_ frozen with directions to reenter the game deck and an apology about technical difficulties. That was _one_ way to refer to Wooly.

Wooly led Wander to the Stella Starbella pinball machine, having ignored every protest of his along the way. Wander could still work with this, he was sure. He was pretty good at making stuff up on the fly, if he did say so himself.

Wooly was looking under the machine, where only his scarf and rope lay, along with a few tell-tale orange hairs. He picked up the scarf. "Well he was --"

Wander shoved him into HOLO and toppled after. Sensing a presence in it, the door slid shut to resume the game. It was dark but for the faintest of glows coming from the helmet's visor.

"What in tarnation are ya doin', Daisy?" Wooly spat, shoving Wander off of him again. Then his eyes widened. ''Ooooh, yer Wander, ain't ya."

"H-how d' ya figure that?" Wander asked, still keeping his voice pitched upward though he was clearly caught. He might not be quite as good at winging it as he’d thought.

"I ain't seen but three of us on this ship, and all us bein' orange? That's likely as a pleasant day on Gothos." When Wander didn't say anything either way, Wooly patted his knee. "Like I said, pretty, but dumb. Now open the door."

"I can't, Wooly,” Wander said, dropping the fake voice. “You said you wanted answers. Well, here they are."

Wooly cast a disbelieving glance around the small tube -- made smaller with two people occupying it -- then returned his gaze to Wander, who stood up and grabbed the helmet. He held it out to Wooly, who didn't even bother to get up to investigate. Wander pressed on.

"This is where ya came from. You're from a game, an' for some reason, you're outta your game."

Wooly slumped against the wall, knees up and blaster held loosely between them. "Uh-huh."

“Well, why do you think we have the same name? The same fur color? The same hat?” Wooly was silent, lips twisted up into a frown, so Wander kept going. “Can ya tell me anything about yourself besides that you’re a outlaw and a thief? Do you have a ma, or any friends? You know what those are, right?”

When Wooly continued to not respond, Wander sat down next to him. He wanted to give the poor guy a hug but figured that would go over about as well as tackling him had, so twisted his fingers in the velvet hem of his skirt instead. “Wooly?”

“So,” Wooly finally said. “Assumin’ what you’re sayin’ is true, why’s it matter?”

“Eh?”

“If I came from some game, and I don’t have no ma nor friends, nor history t’ speak of -- why’s it matter? I’m here, ain’t I? An’ I can tell you ain’t got a lick of a clue how t’ put me back there.” He gestured at the helmet with his blaster.

It was Wander’s turn to purse his lips. “You’ve got an awful strong sense of self for bein' a cliché.”

Wooly tipped his hat. “Thank ya kindly, miss. Shame I can’t say th’ same for ya.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Who are you without your ma or friends or whatever all ya said? You Wander? Daisy? Some other name?”

“I’m… I’m me, of course. Right now, that’s Wander.”

“That don’t sound very convincing.”

“Well, I’m not here t’ convince ya of that,” Wander said quickly. “The others won’t let ya go if you’re gonna keep shootin’ people and stealin’ stuff.” If Wooly was this much a person -- however _that_ had come about -- Wander absolutely couldn’t let him be caught. Not at least until he had a chance to recognize right and wrong for himself and decide from there.

“Okay. I’ll stop shootin’ people ‘n’ stealin’ stuff.”

“Really?”

“Really really.” Wooly tossed his blaster up and caught it by the barrel, then extended it, grip-first, to Wander. “I’ll jest apologize then be on my merry way t’ never commit another crime again.”

Wander took the blaster gingerly and set it on the other side of himself. He remembered Marjo’s order -- they were going to unmake Wooly, whatever that meant. He got the feeling Marjo was the sort to follow through on that sort of threat, and they’d figure out where the two had gone sooner rather than later. “I don’t think it’d be that easy. They’re none too pleased with ya out there.”

“Y’ve kinda trapped us in here, girlie, so I don’t know how y’ expect this t’ go down, then. Except maybe in a hail of laser fire.” He reached across Wander to retrieve his blaster, only to have his hand slapped away.

“No! No, I got this. Oh,” Wander pulled off his hair-band. “Let’s swap outfits. We look about the same.”

Wooly stroked his goatee, which was notably fuller than Wander’s three little chin whiskers. “Yeah, ‘bout.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

* * *

When the door slid open, Wander shoved Wooly out fast enough that he stumbled right into Sylvia’s arms. Wander exited more slowly, arms held up and bandana tied across his face. In Wooly’s outfit, he looked all but identical. “I surrender,” he said in a low approximation of Wooly’s voice. It was pretty easy, slipping back into the character, though he’d not used it in ages. He supposed there’d been some truth to Wooly’s statement. Maybe all he was _was_ just a bunch of disparate characters wearing different names. Wander'd mull over that later. Or never.

Marjo sent one of the other officers to pat Wander down before he found the blaster still inside the game deck. It was handed off to her.

Wooly peeked over Sylvia’s arms at Wander. “It’s okay, buddy,” Sylvia said, petting his head. “You’re safe now.”

Wander leaped at the two, and Sylvia immediately pushed Wooly further behind her. Wander cackled his Wild Wooly laugh as Marjo grabbed his arms and dragged him away from the two.

Wooly backed up, then ran out the door while everyone else was focused on Wander. As soon as he was out, Wander relaxed even as he was handcuffed.

“Take that other orange guy to the infirmary,” Marjo said as she yanked Wander along. “Make sure he’s not been hurt. So I can hurt him later for not following the plan.”

They got to the arcade’s doorway before anyone realized Wooly was gone. Sylvia’s eyes widened as she connected the dots, and she yanked off the bandana.

Wander gave a guilty little shrug, apology already on his lips. “Heheh, sorry, Syl, I just couldn’t --”

Marjo’s comm-link crackled to life. “Someone’s jettisoned an escape pod!”

“Well go after them,” she ordered. “And be careful -- the occupant’s dangerous.”

“No kidding, ma'am. They have to be crazy to even go out in this storm. There's no way we can risk following.”

Marjo growled and shook Wander by the arm. “What were you thinking, helping him escape?”

“He said he’s gonna change! He just needs a chance t’.”

With a disgusted noise, Marjo freed Wander and let him run over to Sylvia. “I should throw you in a holding cell,” she said but made no move to make good on that. “Just -- okay, we’ll put out a warning to other stations and planets. He’ll have to land somewhere.” She waved dismissively at Wander and Sylvia, already planning damage control as she left the arcade.

Sylvia scooped Wander into a hug before she winced and pushed him away. “Everything you’re wearing is spiky, Wander.”

“Sorry,” Wander said again and quickly stripped out of Wooly’s costume to toss it aside. “I just really do think….”

“I know, buddy,” Sylvia said with a long-suffering sigh. “And I’m sure you made the right call.” Sylvia’s tone suggested she didn’t actually believe that, but she produced his hat from under her saddle and situated it on Wander’s head and that was that.

* * *

They weren’t ever held on the station for complicity or questioning, and as soon as the ion storm let up, the two orbbled out of there. Days later, they landed at a station to refill, and Sylvia sent Wander in to get them snacks.

He was in the middle of handing over the credits when a newspaper caught his eye. After some quick math, Wander put away his candy bar and got the paper, instead.

“You didn’t get anything for yourself?” Sylvia asked as Wander handed her her Thunder Blazz.

“Sylvia, look at this.” He held up the paper. In the sidebar where the Villain Leader Board updates were listed was a new name and a familiar silhouette. Wild Pilot, with one planet.

“He definitely changed,” she said dryly as the pump dinged that it was finished filling their bottle. “His name, at least.”

Wander tucked the newspaper into his hat and hopped on Sylvia’s back. “He sure pulled the _wool_ over our eyes!” he chirped, though her response cut off his giggles at the pun.

“Nah, I think that was just you, buddy.”

“Oh.” Wander recovered quickly enough, though, as they left the planetoid. “Well, the paper said he’d claimed Windfall V.”

“Think we should pay him a visit?”

Wander rummaged around in his hat before producing a gift basket. “I mean, he _is_ new and all.”


End file.
